Take Off Your Mask
by JokerGrace
Summary: AU. "Now he only went as Sam Temple by day..." Sam, Quinn and Edilio are superheroes, protecting Perdido Beach from crime! But with great power, comes great responsibility... and great enemies. Like I said, very AU.
1. The Oncoming Storm

**Beta: Atchair. THANK YOU ONCE MORE! *Hands fluffy white cat who may or may not be named Captain Mittins.**

**Here we go - another multi-chapter story! I hope you guys like it, because it is the most fun I've ever had with writing a Fanfiction. It's very AU, but I hope y'all enjoy it!**

**Disclaimer: If I owned GONE, I would be basking in my own triumph. But I don't, so I can't.**

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><p>On the surface, far above its scarred underbelly, Perdido Beach seemed a <em>good <em>town. Safe, friendly and almost completely free from crime. Depending who you were, the reasons as to why changed; according to Mayor Bassem, it was due to the irreproachable police force, particularly the newly appointed captain; to the blonde news reporter it was because of the concrete laws that had been newly set, helped greatly along by her ambitious ideas; to the most successful businessman in town, it was because of the sound economical status: he'd helped kick-start a new money system which was benefiting everyone, not least himself. However, all of them had to agree, no matter how grudgingly, that a great portion of thanks needed to be given to one boy and his friends.

Sam Temple, not that they knew his real name, had once been ordinary. Nothing remotely special or different; just another kid merged into the masses. Now he only went as Sam Temple by day to the people who were not in the know, oblivious to the things he did in order to protect them. At night when the shadows struck he was someone else. Someone extraordinary.

He was Fire Fist.

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><p>Sam stood in front of the small mirror that had been propped half heartedly against the wall and gazed at his reflection. Slightly messy brown hair, somewhat bleached by his times soaking up the sun's rays on the beach, stuck up in all directions, making it look like he'd just rolled out of bed. He lifted a hand and attempted to flatten it, though without much commitment. There wasn't much point. Normally he paid more attention to his appearance, but today it wouldn't matter: for one, he was just going to hang out with Quinn and Edilio, and by the time the afternoon crept up on him, it wouldn't be a problem, as no-one would be aware that it was he beneath the mask. Sam was standing in the basement of the fire station – his secret hideout. Stuck to the walls were newspaper clippings, with headlines such as: "PERDIDO CRIME FIGHTING TRIO DOES IT AGAIN". Although most had a heroic, victorious story accompanying the picture, there was an undertone of displeasure. The blonde reporter really did have something against him, although he couldn't figure out why.<p>

There was a swift noise and then Quinn came into view, sliding quickly down the fireman's pole. He unwound himself from the silver rod and fished a Diet Coke from out of his jeans' pocket. He cracked the seal, the _pff_ sound it made echoing slightly in the hideout, and took a long swig when the fizz of bubbles dropped. When he finished swallowing, Quinn sighed dramatically and smiled. "Hey, brah."

"Hey Quinn," said Sam flatly. "Where's Edilio?"

Quinn shrugged. "He's helping some little girl. Her cat's stuck in a tree."

"Oh. Well why didn't you stop too?"

"'Cos I put it up there in the first place."

Sam nodded, not bothering to comment. He was far too used to Quinn's short temper to be surprised.

The hideout was large and had, at some point, been where the firemen had kept their trucks and vehicles. Sam and his associates, Quinn and Edilio, had cleared all them away, storing them in an unused, abandoned garage nearby, and transformed the vast room. It was painted a nondescript grey, so that it resembled the inside of a cave. The floor was the same colour, and gleamed in the glow of the industrial lights. The walls had three large, widescreen computers buckled to them, and over to one side was a table piled with official-looking documents. The centre of the room was mainly dominated by the two poles. There were also twin matching sofas, both a plush ruby.

"Today's the day," Sam called behind him. Quinn didn't answer, choosing instead to walk over to the high-tech computers.

"What day?" he answered insouciantly. The computers were supposed to be used for checking on the town: they linked to the alarm systems of town hall and some other important places, but instead Quinn was using it to play Pacman. The sound effects echoed in the room.

Sam smacked his palm into his forehead. "The day, Quinn!" He pointed to the calendar tacked to the other side of the wall. This month was decorated with cartoon drawings of the Perdido Beach trio fighting an army of robots (something they'd never actually had to do). When Quinn still looked dubious, Sam sighed and explained in a slightly more calm voice, "It's been a year since we first began cleaning up the streets!"

A dawning light of awareness lit up Quinn's face. "Ohhh," he said, his eyes half-closing, giving him the look of an enlightened monkey. "Happy anniversary, brah."

Sam grinned, his blue eyes sparkling. "You too, man. The celebrations in town should be starting up soon – I saw them setting up as I was walking back from Ralph's."

Both boys were distracted by the voice which echoed up from above their heads – Edilio. Quinn made to shout up at him, but Sam slapped a hand over his mouth, worry creasing up his forehead. "He's not alone," Sam hissed.

True enough, there came the sound of another's voice – a female's shrill tone. "Where are the other fire chiefs?" the girl asked.

Quinn and Sam exchanged an alarmed look. That was the distinctive voice of Astrid Ellison, the unscrupulous editor of the local newspaper. What she wanted, she got – it was almost impossible to lie to her, due to her shrewd wits and uncanny intelligence. Astrid was known for smelling out a story; nothing would get in her way once she started on the trail of a piece of news.

"They've... gone out." Edilio's voice was raised slightly, obviously hoping that Sam and Quinn heard and didn't do anything stupid.

"Gone out?" said Astrid, jumping onto the slight pause Edilio had left. Her footsteps pattered overheard, and there was the slight squeak as the old fridge door opened. Sam imagined her reaching out for a can of Pepsi and scowled. Astrid had a commanding air about her; it seemed that wherever she went, she owned the place. Sam could almost see her posture in the room above: leaning against a doorway, perhaps, or sitting in one of the wooden chairs at the rounded kitchen table, with Edilio no doubt on the other side of the room in an attempt to shrink out of sight. It was a stroke of bad luck that he'd been forced to bring Astrid back. "And where exactly have they gone?"

Sam could almost hear Edilio's brain whirring. "I'm not sure – I think they wanted to see the celebrations. Yeah, that's right. I think they were going to help set up near the church."

"Right," answered Astrid, disbelief dripping from her voice. "And they left you alone here?"

"Sure."

"But surely if a fire breaks out, or there's some sort of emergency, then that's not safe?"

_Distract her, Edilio, _Sam begged mentally, secretly grateful that the much slower Quinn had not been the one left to deal with the snooping reporter. _Get rid of her_... He pictured Astrid's sneer and felt a jolt of fear. What if she found out…? It was all on Edilio now. And Edilio probably knew it.

There was a sigh. "You're right," said Edilio apologetically; humbly. "It was a stupid mistake. Astrid, it was a one-off kind of thing. The celebrations only happen once a year and we just got caught up in the excitement. Please don't tell Mayor Bassem."

Sam knew what Edilio was doing. Turning the tide, making Astrid feel important with her high-up connections and good advice, and hopefully (Sam tried not to get his hopes up) prompting her to leave.

"It's Miss Ellison," Astrid corrected in her superior way, and Sam could picture her straightening up to her full height and plastering on her important, snobby expression which always came along with that tone of voice. "And I'll let it drop – for now. You should be grateful that I don't follow up this and make it into a story."

"I'm sure you have more important things to be reporting on."

Edilio was overdoing it now, Sam could tell, and the silence from Astrid seemed to agree. There was an awkward, tense moment, and then Astrid was speaking again, in a low, threatening tone. "I can see what you're doing, Edilio. And you better not get on the wrong side of me. You have secrets, and if you don't watch your step, they won't stay secret for long."

Sam listened for Edilio's answer, ears strained, but the silence was eloquent. Had Edilio blown their cover?

Sam would do anything to see what was going on in the room above.

The sound of Edilio zipping down the pole made Sam and Quinn jump before realising they were practically sat on top of each other in fear. Sam removed his hand from Quinn's mouth and wiped it on his jeans, grimacing.

Edilio breathed out theatrically, pantomiming wiping sweat from his brow before sauntering over to one of the plush red sofas and plopping down on it. "God, she's quick."

"Did she leave?"

"Yeah, I watched her head off towards McDonald's." Edilio checked his watch and nodded to himself. "We've got forty minutes 'till show time. I think Perdido Beach's crime-fighting trio had better get ready."

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><p>Anticipation lined the streets. The Perdido Beach trio, individually known as the mysterious Fire Fist, Fedora Guy and the Backhoe Boy, were due to make their appearance at any moment. The eager voices rose in pitch, clamouring, catching on the excitement of their neighbours.<p>

There was the controlled roar of an engine, and then swerving around the corner came the famed yellow backhoe, Fedora Guy clinging tightly onto the back. Cheers and shouts erupted from the crowd, a colossal noise merging into a giant wave of approval. Fire Fist waved jauntily at the crowd on either side of Alameda Avenue.

Backhoe Boy drove his vehicle towards the stage that had been newly constructed in front of the church, a majestic podium erected in the middle, and several posters and banners depicting the glorious trio papered onto the walls in the background. The three heroes piled out of the bright yellow backhoe and stood beaming, on the stage.

Fire Fist was standing proudly in the middle, wearing the exact shade of green as his power which had given him his name. On his left stood Fedora Guy, who wore, of all things, a grey fedora, perched at a jaunty angle on his head. Fedora Guy carried a large hammer, which was mirrored by his famed catchphrase – "I live for the hammer, brah." Backhoe Boy stood on the right. He was the cleverest of the trio, and was probably the most loved hero out of the three, due to him almost always keeping a calm head and thinking rationally about what to do. Backhoe Boy's backhoe was the main means of transport for the trio; they would often be seen riding through town on it.

The cheering shouts grew in tempo, and Sam felt as if he was riding a wave on his board. There was the same swooping, exhilarated feeling in the pit of his stomach, and his heart beat twice as fast, threatening to explode out of his chest. He could hear the echo of his pulse in his head.

Eventually, Mayor Bassem climbed up the stage steps and stood behind the podium. It took a further couple of seconds to tame the crowd, but eventually the mayor had the opportunity to speak.

"Today is a great day," called Mayor Bassem formerly, his face shining. "Today, it has been a year – one whole year – since our friends Fire Fist, Fedora Guy and Backhoe Boy took to cleaning up the streets of Perdido Beach." He allowed a smattering of applause to interrupt him before continuing. "I'm sure you all remember the Human Crew?"

There was a sudden cacophony of booing; the mayor's words had hit a sore spot. Sam was half inclined to join in the angry shouts.

"The infamous gang spread hate and fear through the town. They made us afraid to leave the safety of our houses. They spread graffiti, threatened civilians and even captured Hunter Lefkowitz, the chef who helps prepare our food. Nobody could stop them."

The town had gone very quiet, and Hunter, who was stood at the back of the crowd, shifted uncomfortably. Everyone knew – remembered – how the events had finished, but nobody dared to interrupt. It was as if they were hearing the story for the first time.

"And then came along our heroes. They fought valiantly, eventually capturing the gang and sending them to the prison, saving us all." Mayor Bassem took a deep breath. "And since then, they have worked together closely with out police force to ensure our continual safety."

Sam nearly groaned. Mayor Bassem always managed to make it about the police force. He was close friends with the captain, a huge mountain of a boy named Captain Orc. In fact, Sam had often heard Orc calling Mayor Bassem by his first name – Howard. The two were often planning together, or hanging out (if such a thing could be said about a mayor) and Sam got the feeling that as soon as he, Edilio and Quinn were no longer needed, Mayor Bassem would get rid of them as quickly and efficiently as possible.

Captain Orc stomped onto the stage in an obviously planned move, making it shake slightly with the pressure. It was lucky it had been built so stably (another thing that the mayor had obviously foreseen), as otherwise it would have collapsed immediately.

He shook hands with Sam and his friends, accidentally crushing their palms. Orc had never understood the extent of his strength.

"We are safe from all threats!" crowed Mayor Bassem as Orc finished with the trio and stood beside them, looking like a member of their gang. "We have –"

He was cut-off by a sudden, piercing siren which tore at Sam's ears. The screeching was loud and demanding.

"Oh my God!" someone called. Sam turned around and saw Albert Hillsborough, the most successful businessman in town, running up the stairs and onto the stage. He was looking more flustered than Sam had even seen him. No, more than flustered – terrified. "That's my alarm! Someone's broken into my house! _Someone's broken in!_" Albert had grabbed the front of the mayor's shirt and was one step away from shaking him backwards and forwards uncontrollably. "Howard – you have to –"

Mayor Bassem turned his head in an almost resigned manner whilst attempting to prise off Albert's clutching, desperate fingers, and looked over at the Perdido Beach trio. Sam met his gaze. "Will –"

"We're on our way, Albert," Sam said loudly, interjecting calm into his voice. The businessman released the mayor's shirt and collapsed on the floor, burying his head in his hands. It was a sign for the whole crowd to go mad.

Sam knew how protective Albert was of his own property; after all, he had earned it with the sweat off of his back. Albert's house had never been broken into – it was covered in alarms and traps which were directly connected to the town hall (the source of the noise), making it any thief's nightmare. Mentally, Sam ran a list of villains through his head. Who would be stupid or reckless enough to break into Albert's place?

The Human Crew were out. They were in jail, spending most of their time doing community service, cleaning toilets and the like.

It wasn't Pack Leader's style. Pack Leader was the chain-smoking head of a drug smuggling gang, who'd met with the Perdido Beach trio more than was good for him. The pack, as they were collectively known, was currently running out in the desert, afraid of Sam and his friends. They didn't go for cheap thrills like breaking and entering.

Sam sprung after Edilio and Quinn towards the backhoe. "Who could it be?" Sam roared over the panicked crowd. People were running everywhere, unsure as to what to do. To see Albert almost breakdown in public had sparked something that was akin to madness. The scene had gone almost immediately from order to disorder, with kids sprinting in every direction, turning on each other and elbowing and kicking. The posters that had been put up in honour of the trio were lying in tatters on the floor, curled up amongst the brittle yellow grass.

"Is it the pack?" asked Quinn, gripping his hammer tightly in a reassuring move.

"Can't be."

"It's not the Human Crew," said Edilio firmly. "They're locked up for good."

Sam caught a glance of Astrid Ellison. She was on the other side of the plaza, sitting on the ledge of the broken, dried-out fountain. Astrid was scribbling frantically into a notebook, and for the briefest of seconds looked up and caught his eye.

In her triumphant gaze, there was the hint of something that Sam already knew. She'd figured it out before him. She was probably already writing up the new story for her damned newspaper.

"Fire Fist?"

Sam blinked and looked at Edilio. "I think something bad is going down, Backhoe Boy. I don't think it's anyone we've dealt with before. I think this is someone new. Which means we have a problem."

Edilio's eyes widened. He stepped on the gas and drove haphazardly to Albert's place, the piercing sound of the alarm ringing in his ears and the worry weighing him down as if his stomach was filled with lead.

Something – everything – was taking a turn for the worst. Sam could sense it electrocute the air, filling it with an almost undetectable vibrating. He knew that feeling. He knew what it meant.

A storm was coming.

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><p><strong>There you have it! Please please review - I will love you forever. Chapter two is coming soon, seeing as I've kinda sorta written it already. xD<strong>

**Any guesses as to who this thief is? Kinda obvious, but never mind.**

**Reviews are love, people! **


	2. The Start Of A Beautiful Partnership

**Chapter two is here, my friends! First off, let's have the shoutouts - Atchair, HungryInTheDarkForNachosLOL, HotPinkCoffee, sheepobsessed, kylexdamien and The Timeless Clock, thank you all for reviewing. Cookies all round! *Hands round cookies* I guess you can each have superhero capes too, seeing as this is a superhero fic. [I'm thinking of The Incredibles now xD]**

**Disclaimer: I don't think I'm Michael Grant. And if I was, would I be writing Fanfiction for my own book? (The answer is quite clearly yes, but shhh.)**

**Beta: Atchair. Ah, Atchair, you deranged child, you.**

**And a quick note: this is kind of parodying the superhero genre, if you haven't guessed. I love it, but it's so ridiculous xD. Why oh why, in a town filled with crime, would the local museum display some long-lost artifact of much value? Which is why, in my mind, it's completely acceptable for Albert to have a display like this in his house. **

**Let the chapter... commence!**

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><p>All was quiet.<p>

Caine Soren could have marched up to Albert's house playing a trumpet and no-one would have known; instead they were all off, paying tribute to that ridiculous trio of mishaps. However, Caine was nothing if not cautious; he'd spent weeks on planning the heist and wasn't going to mess everything up at the first opportunity he got.

Stealing from Albert was idiotic at best, particularly in broad daylight, but Caine was confident about his chances.

Caine jumped down from his watching point and slipped around to the back of the house. Albert's place was a large, white building with three stories – more than enough space for a boy who lived on his own. Caine had been keeping a watchful eye on the place for weeks, and he'd noted that everyday at twelve the maid-girl entered the house, cleaned, and left, leaving open the window on the second floor to air out Albert's large and thoroughly spotless room. _The stupid girl might as well have left me the keys to the front door, _Caine reflected nastily.

He raised his arms, palms up, and felt his feet leave the safety of the ground. He rose quickly, as if he was standing in an invisible lift. When he reached the open window, Caine allowed himself to hover in the air for a moment, enjoying the use of his power, as he pretended most days he did not have one. It was all part of keeping up with his appearance.

He climbed into Albert's bedroom with a smirk. He could already taste the sweet taste of success on his tongue, and it was almost as delicious at the taste of revenge. The room was old-fashioned, with a comfortable looking four-poster bed that Caine wished he could curl up on and sleep for days, an old closet that had been stashed into the corner of the room and an en-suite bathroom. Caine could smell the industrial bleach from where he was standing.

Caine was not materialistic. This robbery was more about kick-starting his career than anything. Getting noticed. And what better way to get noticed than to steal from the one who it was impossible to steal from?

Just as long as he did not get caught.

Caine exited the bedroom swiftly, took a right and descended down the staircase. More than anything, Albert had 'Bertos. And 'Bertos were made of melted down gold. After tonight, Albert was going to be significantly shaken, while Caine rocketed to fame and became richer by several gold bars.

It was that simple. All he would do would be to steal some stupid bars, making sure the security cameras saw who had done it, go home and either stash them or dispose of them, then take off his super villain mask and put on a very different kind of mask: Caine Soren, the kind, helpful, modest and yet powerful civilian. And no-one would be any the wiser. That was, as long as everything went according to plan.

He made his way slowly, hearing nothing but the gentle hum of the refrigerator and his own breathing. Nothing else moved. The tap dripped into the sink, making a _plink _noise that to Caine was louder than a herd of trumpeting elephants. He continued to slink deeper into the belly of the house.

He rounded a corner and – there!

A room that was empty of all furniture met his eyes. It was completely dark, with a podium in the middle which was lit up with several gaudy spotlights. And on top of that podium, glinting gleefully in the lights, was several fat bars of gold. Caine allowed himself a triumphant smile.

He began to walk forwards and paused. Albert, although undoubtedly foolish, was protective of his property, and would not leave it unguarded. Was it likely that the boy had gotten cocky and simply not bothered to put up security systems? Then again, Albert trusted that damned crime-fighting trio and believed they had stopped all villains in town.

Caine would have to chance it. He darted forwards, glad that the room was dark, cringing in anticipation of the alarm. It did not come.

He was close to the podium now, close enough to see his own reflection in the bars. With a feeling of untameable victory, he reached forwards, grabbed the cool metal in his hands and with practised movements, put it swiftly away and into the black bag he'd had the foresight to bring along. Still the alarm did not go off.

Caine turned to go, adrenaline pumping in his veins. His heart sped faster in delight.

"And where do you think you're going with _my_ gold?"

Ah. So there was a problem. Caine stood, frozen on the spot. His heart, which seconds ago had been flying, sank and settled somewhere near his stomach. The voice did not belong to Albert; it was the voice of a girl, her tone mocking.

"_Your_ gold?" repeated Caine, attempting to hold onto his bravado. "And how exactly did you figure that?" He made the mistake of turning around.

Despite the mask that obscured part of her face, Caine could see she was beautiful. Her luscious, mahogany hair was free to run down her back, and her eyes were large and dark. She was far more tempting than any amount of gold; in fact, Caine had half a mind to hand her the precious metal then and there. And what was more, she looked familiar.

"Diana?"

Diana's eyes widened in horror. "How do you – wait… Caine?"

"The one and only."

She swore loudly. "What are you doing here?"

"By the looks of it, the same thing as you."

She glared at him before looking at him up and down slowly in a way that made him feel oddly self-consious, trying to make sense of his costume. "And who exactly are you meant to be?"

"I," he said, puffing out his chest with pride, "Am Fearless Leader!"

Diana stared at him, trying to decide whether he was joking or not. When his expression remained serious, she started laughing. Caine's face fell magnificently. "Well who are you supposed to be?" he demanded.

"I'm the Reader."

"Since when have you been into books?"

Diana scowled. "Are you retarded? It's my power."

"Oh. Right."

They were interrupted by the long expected shriek of an alarm. Neither Caine nor Diana had done anything in the last couple of seconds to set it off, although that troubling thought occurred to neither of them.

"This way!" Caine shouted, grabbing her hand and pulling her along towards the marble stairs, which almost acted as beacon for the two criminals; it shone in the gloom. He planned to lead her back the way he had come; through the window and across the grass in the garden. Just as they were set to reach the first step, a noise made them both whip around without thinking. A figure materialised and blocked their path.

For one crazy second, Caine thought it was Albert or Fire Fist, which were stupid thoughts, as the boy standing in front of them had one arm. The other arm had been replaced by a – a snake. Or was it a whip?

Caine should have recognised that form straight away. "Hey, Drake," he said in a calm voice, as if he was caught doing this kind of thing daily.

Drake had stupidly walked into the house by forcing open the front door, setting off the alarm that had been lying in wait. Drake was not a boy of subtlety, and if he was going to do something as grand as this, then why not make a big performance out of it? _He hasn't changed since Coates, _Caine thought with a weary smile, before realising that that was also a very bad thing.

Drake was smiling his trademark shark-grin, teeth gleaming a death-white in the darkness. "It's not Drake anymore," he corrected, the twisted expression still on his face. _Not changed a single bit since Coates, _Caine mentally repeated. Who knew whether this would work to his advantage or not?

Diana looked him up and down. "So what do we call you? Other than moron?"

"I –"

"Tentacle Boy?" Diana interrupted, unable to resist sniping at her long-time enemy. "Or let me guess. Doctor Octopus."

"No!" Drake snarled angrily, but Diana cut him off before he could correct her.

"The Boy With The Skipping Rope Arm? What about Silly String? Or maybe something to do with your whip – Willow Smith?"

"I am Whip Hand!" Drake howled angrily. "And you will –"

"Later," hissed Caine. "We need to go!"

They could threaten and argue later.

The alarm began to scream even louder, persistently. Caine felt the first fluttering of panic, as if a butterfly's wings were brushing against his insides. Decision battered his calm front. What to do, what to do…

There was the screech of tyres, and Caine instantly knew who it was. The Perdido Beach trio had finally arrived. Unless he did something now, they were screwed.

Caine was running before he even realised what his sketchy plan was. He still had hold of Diana's hand, so she was pulled along after him, tripping slightly before getting into her stride. He could hear Drake's heavy rasping right next to him. He lifted up his hand, palm out in front of him just as the Perdido Beach trio rammed in through the door. The wall which Caine was running at exploded outwards, hit by a huge wave of telekinesis, and the three criminals dashed through it. Caine was deaf to the yells of Fire Fist, Fedora Guy and the Backhoe Boy, who had to escape as the house began to totter and fall in on itself, crumbling like a sandcastle or a house of cards; triumph was yelling in his head. His victorious war cry was echoed by Drake.

Out the corner of his eye, Caine saw a flash of blonde hair peep out from behind a perfectly kept tree and heard the click of a camera. Something in his head distantly connected, and he realised it was that pushy reporter, Astrid Ellison. And with her on the case, he realised with a hint of pride, he would be sure of getting noticed.

They ran on, never slowing the pace, knowing what would happen to them should they pause in indecision for even a second. They weren't being followed, so Caine led them towards his house, darting through side streets and over roofs when the need occurred. The streets were empty due to the panic Albert's raucous alarm had caused, which Caine had not been banking on, although it was an added bonus.

Eventually the three of them made it to Caine's house, which was more like a mansion. It was not quite as big and lavish as Albert's, but it oozed power and influence. The outside walls were of deep red brick, and the roof was black. Drake whistled appreciatively as they stepped inside.

It was plush and elaborately decorated, with wooden floors and high, arching ceilings. Caine smiled indulgently at their awe-filled expressions. "This is what you get when you work for the mayor. Howard's an idiot. He can't see how loyal, charming Caine Soren is using him. I've half turned him against Fire Fist and his friends. And he still thinks I'm his number one guy." Caine laughed and threw down his mask onto a side table. "What about you two? I've not seen you since Coates."

Coates was a secret. To those who weren't in the know, it was a school for academically gifted children who attended through invitation only. To those who went there and were informed of the truth, it was a secret society for kids with powers or abnormalities who were… bad. Evil villains in training. Most kids chose either to move to another town to cause mayhem or to just give up the whole super-villain thing altogether, but not Caine. He had been determined to be the ultimate villain in this town, Perdido Beach. It was his territory now.

The three of them had graduated a couple of months ago.

"I've been binding my time," said Drake mysteriously. "Finding out some things."

He did not say any more on the topic, instead picking up a letter opener and slashing it through the air, as deranged as usual. Caine made a mental note to discover what exactly Drake had been finding out – normally the psychopath just made up his plans as he went along, something Caine had seen all too often in the past. He didn't dare let his thoughts play out on his face, choosing to turn to Diana instead. "And yourself?"

"I was going to let it go. But…" she shrugged and avoided looking him in the eyes, obviously uncomfortable. Caine was going to push her but decided to let it go as well. He'd get all the answers he wanted in good time.

"Everyone's going to be on high alert after this. We're going to have change. You can stash your costumes in my closet for as long as you need to, okay? Drake, I have some clothes you can change into upstairs." Drake nodded his thanks. "Diana, I don't happen to have any girl's clothes in my house. And obviously with Fire Fist around you unfortunately can't wear your villain outfit, so I suppose you'll have to stay in your underwear. Sorry." He didn't bother attempting to add some sincerity into his voice, and even if he had the effort would have been wasted, as Diana gave him a glare that could murder. "If you're even wearing any," he added, trying not to smile. "If not then you'll just have to –"

"I'll see what I can find," she snapped.

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><p>Sam could not believe it. The three – well, whoever they were – had been running towards a wall one minute. The next, the boy in front had raised his palm and knocked down the wall with some sort of power. Madness.<p>

"There were three of them," Quinn said, shaking his head in disbelief. "Three. And they managed to – I don't believe it. There were a lot of kids in the Human Crew, and there's loads of coyotes in the pack, but three new kids come along and do this much damage? We have a problem, brah."

"I wish we could have found out more about them," Edilio grumbled, running his hands through his hair. The three heroes were back at the fire station, changed into their normal clothes and once more assuming their identities as fire chiefs. They were sat around the circular wooden table, each with a can of Fanta in front of them, although none of them were remotely thirsty. They were all feeling too much disappointment, too much pressure.

As if answering Edilio's wish, a knock on the door interrupted them. The three boys looked around for any evidence of their alter-egos surreptitiously, and when they decided that they were safe, Quinn called out, "Come in!"

To no-one's pleasure it was Astrid Ellison, the reporter who always knew far more than was good for her. "Here," she said, sounding smug, and Sam accepted the newspaper from her. The headline screamed: "ALBERT'S ANGER: THE EVIL TRIO WHO RUINED EVERYTHING". Beneath was a picture of the three villains running away, faces gleeful at their narrow escape. Another picture below showed Albert's wrecked house. The line that popped out at Sam was "Fire Fist failure". He managed a smile, always pretending, always keeping up with the lie that had now become his truth. "Thanks, Astrid," he said weakly.

"It's Miss Ellison," she corrected, adjusting the numerous papers beneath her arms. "I'm giving them out to each house. Howard – Mayor Bassem – said that as fire chiefs, you three get to have the paper for free." She was obviously not happy with the thought, but even Astrid wouldn't cross Mayor Bassem directly. Well, not too many times, anyway.

"Wait – Astrid," called Edilio, looking up from the story. "Who are these people? Fearless Leader, the Reader and – does that say Silly String?"

"Albert had recording equipment in his house," Astrid answered impatiently. "Most of the audio was damaged in the crash, but from what we could hear, their names are Fearless Leader, the Reader and Silly String. They also mentioned books, gold and the word 'moron'. It's all in my report."

"Okay," said Edilio, riffling through to the page where the report continued on page three. "Thanks a lot."

Astrid turned back when she got to the doorway. "And Edilio?" she said coldly. "It's Miss Ellison."

* * *

><p>Howard was the mayor. That meant when there were times of trouble people looked to him, and he knew what to do. He acted cool and confident, and people followed his lead. But there are exceptions to every rule, which was why Howard Bassem could be seen running down the street as fast as he could towards what was known as Soren Manor.<p>

He knocked on the door and dithered on the pavement, waiting impatiently. Should he just barge in – it was definitely within his rights as mayor – or wait for Caine to answer? To Howard's relief, he didn't have to make a choice, because Caine opened the door at that moment. His hands moved from his belt buckle, and Howard wondered whether he'd only just got dressed. Caine, usually so well turned-out, was not wearing a shirt, and as Howard watched he quickly pulled one on. The mayor wondered if he'd just woken up, before remembering it was two o'clock in the afternoon. How odd. "We need to talk," Howard said, inviting himself into the house. He was distracted by the sight of a girl appearing at the top of the stairs. Her hair was messy, and she wearing one of Caine's blue shirts which reached her bare mid-thighs.

"You don't happen to have any –" she began before catching sight of Howard, who was looking pointedly between them. She and Caine simultaneously turned red. "It's not –"

"I wouldn't –"

"We don't –"

"She's a friend from Coates," blurted Caine quickly, the blush still evident on his face. "Diana, this is Howard – Mayor Bassem. Mayor Bassem, this is Diana Ladris."

Diana gave a pained smile before darting out of sight, hopefully to find some jeans or whatever. Howard kept his head down as he followed Caine into the living room and settled himself down on an expensive sofa. Howard declined any offers of refreshment and launched into his story about the three mysterious villains.

"So you're telling me that – what were their names? – Fearless Leader, the Reader and Silly String managed to break into Albert's house, steal his gold and get away unscathed? And on top of that, one of them has some kind of power." Caine chewed his lip, looking very concerned by the news. "I'm worried, Howard."

"Have you just heard about the whole thing now? Where've you been, Caine, man?"

I was… busy." Caine's eyes flickered to the other room, and Howard, remembering Diana, decided it was best not to ask.

"Well, as you can see… what do I do, Caine?" Howard moaned with wide eyes, giving up all pretence of knowing a solution. As much as he needed Orc with him, Caine was just as vital for Howard's leadership. He always helped Howard out, taking away some of the stress, and for that, Howard was grateful.

Caine pretended to think, enjoying the thrill of Howard asking him. "You know, Mayor? I think we should station more guards around anything Albert owns – his house, the McDonald's, the McClub – because these thugs seem to be making a point of attacking Albert. And just to be extra precautious, we should ask Captain Orc where he thinks will be in danger." Caine had to resist the urge to laugh. He would not be going after anything Albert owned again. He had a bigger prize in mind. And the thing about asking Orc to help was a joke – Orc, that brainless lummox, would have no idea.

"You're right!" cried Howard, jumping from his chair. "Thanks Caine. And maybe I could get Fire Fist and his crew –"

"No!" cried Caine, making the mayor jump. "No," he repeated more softly. "The Perdido Beach trio did a good attempt at fighting them, from what I've heard, but I'm sure the proper authorities with your backing could –"

"You're right," answered Howard, nodding. "Thank you, Caine. I owe you. It's good to know that I can always trust you."

Caine led him out of the house, shaking his hand and receiving the thanks as humbly as possible. When the door closed, he looked up at Diana and Drake, who were hovering at the top of the stairs like a pair of hungry hyenas.

"Y'know," Caine said conversationally, beckoning the two down and handing them fruit cocktails. The three clinked glasses as Caine finished, "This could be the start of a beautiful partnership."

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter two is done! I half keep expecting Astrid to snap "It's Miss Ellison" every time I type her name. <strong>

**Chapter three is coming soon - but in the mean time, don't leave me lonely and unloved! Pwease leave me a review, love it or hate it, and I'll give ya a shoutout and a cookie. WHO COULD RESISIT?**


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